Every Day Thoughts July
by MissJayne
Summary: A series of oneshots and drabbles about the friendships between our favourite characters.
1. Jul 1

_A/N:_ _For Intro, please see Every Day Thoughts January._

Every Day Thoughts July

_**July 1**_

**Friendship is as steadying as a hand on the rudder of a boat and as reliable as sunrise after night.**

Gibbs glanced across his basement at the redhead sanding the boat. He couldn't think of anywhere else he would rather be.

Reaching his workbench, he emptied two mason jars and half-filled them with bourbon. Neither of them were too fussed with mugs. Even if she complained, he wasn't climbing up the stairs to search for one. She could go herself.

He turned around to watch her sand before he frowned.

"With the grain," he reminded her.

"I know," Jenny giggled.

He rolled his eyes. Jenny was clearly in a teasing mood tonight. "Bourbon?" he offered.

She put down the sander and walked over to him, grinning as she took the jar from his hand. "Cheers," she replied.

"I offer you bourbon and a relaxing evening, and what do you do?" he teased. "Mess with my boat."

"I'm sure you can fix it," she smirked. "This is boat number four, right? How much more practice do you need?"

He chose not to answer, instead sipping more of his own bourbon. They remained in silence for a little while. She placed her empty jar on the side and made her way back over to his boat. He copied her movements, standing behind her and reaching around so that both of their hands were on the sander.

"With the grain," he reminded her.


	2. Jul 2

_**July 2**_

**Friendship: The older it grows, the stronger it is. – Proverb**

Tony tapped his foot as he waited in Abby's lab. The loud music was present, the humming of the various strange machines was present, but the Goth herself was absent. He suspected a run to the evidence garage or to see Ducky. She certainly wasn't in the squad room.

He hadn't been sent here; he just wanted to see his friend. The lack of an active case was making everyone crazier than usual. Gibbs was practically mainlining coffee, McGoo couldn't tear his eyes away from his computer monitor and Ziva was amassing a paperclip collection. He needed to get away for a little while.

His thoughts turned to Abby. They'd been friends for a long time, before McGee and later Ziva had arrived. Even before Kate. They had hit it off the moment they had met, despite his initial fear of a mad hugging Goth with a dog collar and tattoos.

It was something to do with her personality. No one could dislike Abby; it was impossible. She was always smiling, always happy to see him and always prepared to brighten the darkest day.

And the longer they were friends, the closer they got. Tony guessed it was only a matter of time until he became as protective as Gibbs was. Soon he was going to be vetting Abby's boyfriends and threatening her exes with a baseball bat.

He shuddered at the thought before smiling. He would always want to protect Abby and that was fine by him.


	3. Jul 3

_**July 3**_

**To have the greatest blessing, a true friend. – Philip Massinger, **_**The Parliament of Love**_

Ducky smiled to himself as he sat on the porch, the thunderstorm in full sway around him. The rain poured out of the sky and hit the drive with all the raging force the heavens could muster. The night sky was lit with beautiful forks of lightning, bringing a flash of day to the surroundings.

The rumbles of thunder made him smile even more. He loved thunderstorms. There was something about the force of nature triumphing over man that made him realize how small and insignificant he was. And how blessed he was to have had such a full life.

The only thing that would improve his current position was the addition of a friend. Jethro. They had both watched various thunderstorms together in the past. It was almost becoming a habit.

He found it amusing that storms liked to interrupt important crime scenes. It was as though Mother Nature wished to wash away any trace of such a heinous crime before it spoilt anyone's day. He was used to running around, collecting whatever evidence he needed while Jethro's team frantically did their jobs and their enigmatic leader sipped calmly from his coffee.

A thunderstorm was not going to bother Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

He smiled again as night turned into day for half a second. He was looking forward to the next storm already.


	4. Jul 4

_**July 4**_

**A call, a note, or a handclasp from a friend nudges aside worry and loneliness just as fog lifting on mountains peels away lingering doubts that the summit might not be there.**

Budget hearings. The two words that were guaranteed to send a shiver down Jenny's spine. The two most horrible words she had ever heard as Director.

They were beyond evil. She would rather face up to a livid Gibbs than have to sit through one. There was so much planning and so much at stake. One slip could cost them a lot of money.

And they needed the money. They were at the bottom of the federal food chain and she was never allowed to forget it. She didn't want to return to the days where they were forced to buy their own ammo for the range.

They were right on top of her again. Today was her first day and she was not looking forward to it. Dutch courage was sounding more and more like a good idea. She needed _something_ to help her get through this.

She cursed as she counted the folders in her hand. One short. She couldn't do anything without it. She climbed from her car, told her driver she would be five minutes and almost ran back to her office.

The missing folder sat on the edge of her desk, taunting her. She reached over to pick it up and spotted a post-it note on the front. Curious, she read it.

And smiled. Written in Gibbs' distinct handwriting were the two best words she could have wished for.

_Good luck_.


	5. Jul 5

_**July 5**_

**What trusty treasure in the world can countervail a friend. – Nicholas Grimald, "Of Friendship"**

"Come on, come on, come on, come on!" Abby pleaded.

She glared at Tony to make sure he carried out his role. It had been his idea in the first place; she had simply agreed with it.

Tony was living up to his responsibilities though. "_Zee-vah_," he whined. "It'll be fun."

The Israeli shook her head. "It is late," she warned. "I have finally finished all of my paperwork and I do not feel like going to see a movie."

"But it has pirates in!" Abby pointed out, practically bouncing up and down. Why wasn't Ziva getting excited over this? "Pirates!"

"It has Johnny Depp in it," Tony added for good measure. "I've seen it before; it's good."

"I would rather curl up with my book," Ziva pointed out.

Tony tutted; Abby watched in amusement. "The book can wait. A special midnight screening cannot."

"I am sure they will show it again," Ziva countered. "Another night perhaps, when I am less tired."

"You've worked longer days before," Tony retorted. "Is the little Mossad officer too tired?"

She growled at him; Abby decided it was time to get involved again.

"Johnny Depp!" she interrupted. "I thought you liked him."

"I do," Ziva answered. "He is hot."

"There's like a whole scene where he's topless," Abby recalled.

Ziva grabbed her bag. "Why did you not say so before? Which theatre are we going to again?"


	6. Jul 6

_**July 6**_

**Friendships are the golden threads woven into the tapestry of our lives.**

Ziva smiled to herself as she continued to knit the scarf. It was not meant for her; merely a present for someone else.

Abby had mentioned how cold her neck got in the winter months and Ziva had taken it upon herself to do something about it. Her first thought had been to buy a scarf. But then she had realized that Abby needed something special. After all, if Abby wanted an ordinary scarf, anyone could buy it for her.

So she had decided to make one herself. It would be a special present.

Then she had had to choose the color of it. Her initial idea was to make a black one so that it would go with everything else the Goth owned. Until she had stood in the shop and noticed a beautiful gold wool. It had called out to her and she had decided to buy it.

It was definitely unusual, but Abby was unusual. She was sure it would go well against the Goth's skin. She had been unable to check because she did not want to spoil the surprise.

And so she spent her evenings and weekends working slowly on the scarf. She did not wish to rush it, instead taking great care. She knew Abby would see the gift for what it was: a declaration of their friendship.

If only she could finish it.


	7. Jul 7

_**July 7**_

**Love is only the highest symbol of friendship, as all other things seem symbols of love. – Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Domestic Life"**

"I don't believe it!" Tony exclaimed.

Across from him, Ducky chuckled. "Poor Anthony," he noted.

"I don't believe it," Tony repeated, still in shock. How could this have happened?

Ducky began to frown. "Are you accusing me of cheating?"

"Of course not," Tony managed to say. "I would never accuse you of such a thing."

Ducky smiled again. "Then you need to accept that I have the new high score on Box Office Trivia."

Tony was struggling to understand. Ducky?! Ducky beat him? Impossible. Something had to be wrong. Abby must have helped him, or Gibbs, or McGeek had played with the program.

It wasn't as though Ducky was a movie fan. Everyone knew that the doctor preferred novels to the moving picture. He even preferred the radio over television, saying that it was much more fun, that he had to use his imagination.

So something had to be wrong. He could perhaps understand if Abby managed to beat his high score one day. Naturally he would take her on and win again because he was the best. But Ducky?

He took several deep breaths to calm himself down. He was going to have to play Ducky in the flesh to see where he was going wrong.


	8. Jul 8

_**July 8**_

**Yes, we must ever be friends; and of all who offer you friendship let me be ever the first, the truest, the nearest and dearest! – Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, "The Courtship of Miles Standish"**

"Hey Palmer," Tim smiled.

The elevator doors had just opened and he had seen Ducky's able assistant standing within the metal box.

Palmer nodded in greeting. "McGee," he replied.

"You heading to Abby's lab too?" Tim checked, stepping onto the elevator and wondering which button to press.

"Bullet from Corporal Granger for Abby," Palmer answered, holding up the evidence jar. "You'll never guess where Ducky dug this out of."

"His skull?" Tim decided to lie for the moment.

"His ear! How it ended up in there, I don't know," Palmer grinned.

Tim couldn't help but grin back. Palmer's enthusiasm was infectious. He changed the subject. "I heard you got your exam results this morning."

If it were possible, Palmer's face lit up even more. "Ninety five percent," he announced.

"That's excellent!" Tim wondered whether to pat his friend on the back but decided against it. Tony would undoubtedly smack Palmer's back when he found out. "Does Ducky know yet?"

"He was the first person I told," Palmer admitted. "Well, the second person because I emailed my mother first, but she wouldn't have seen it for a few hours so he was the first to actually know –"

"I'm sure they're both proud of you," Tim interrupted. "You did a fantastic job."

He allowed Palmer to leave the elevator before him so he could tell Abby the news. He really was pleased for Palmer.


	9. Jul 9

_**July 9**_

**A bridge, a crutch, an easy chair – a true friend can be whatever sort of support you need at the moment.**

Jenny giggled. She couldn't help it; she wasn't used to the sight in front of her. Across the room, Gibbs glared at her.

She couldn't help but giggle harder.

It was all his fault really. He had been trailing a suspect through a wood when he had tripped head first over a tree root. She hadn't been present at the time, but Tony had told her that Gibbs had been paying too much attention to the trail and too little attention to where he was putting his own feet.

One trip to the hospital later, Gibbs was diagnosed with a broken ankle. He had come back to work almost immediately, albeit with crutches, until she had kicked him back home when he tried to go out in the field. She didn't care if it was Gibbs or not – chasing down suspects was better suited to agents who weren't hobbling about.

She had gone to his house earlier that evening, a week after his accident, to discover that he was in his kitchen. This alone had shocked her; the man lived in his basement. But it soon became clear that he couldn't get down there, so she had invited him back to hers. She could keep an eye on him after all.

He still hadn't got the hang of his crutches, instead attempting to walk as normally as possible. She smirked as he almost tripped over her chair.

"When was the last time you slept in a bed?" she asked, amused.

His only reply was a glare.

"You need to rest properly," she warned him. "Or you'll never recover. You can camp in my guest bedroom and Noemi and myself will wait on you hand and foot."

"Director of NCIS babysitting her agent?" he answered, grinning. "That would be a sight to see."

"Upstairs," she ordered.

They made their way slowly to the bottom of the staircase until she realized the flaw in her plan.

"Drop the crutches," she decided. "Lean on me instead."

By the time they reached the top, both of them were exhausted. But, Jenny decided, it had been worth it. All she had to do now was prevent him from heading back down the stairs.


	10. Jul 10

_**July 10**_

**Others offer sympathy; you can depend on a true friend for empathy.**

Tony wasn't sure why his feet had taken him to Abby's lab, but he knew he needed to talk. The same thoughts had been crowding his mind for the past few weeks and he needed to air them.

And he could trust Abby. She would never tell a soul about anything personal, even if Gibbs asked. She was always willing to listen to him and would accept anything he said. She wouldn't judge him or think any differently of him. And at the end of it all, she would hug him tight.

Why would anyone pay for a therapist when they could have Abby? She was permanently upbeat and had the answers to everything. He reminded her of a mother bear; she would do anything to protect her family. He smiled at that thought – Abby considered everyone her family.

She knew exactly how to put the smile back on anyone's face, knew how to make them laugh after a long day. She knew when it was better to say nothing and when it was better to say something reassuring. She empathized with everyone.

He couldn't imagine how he was so lucky to have a friend like her. And he knew he would fight tooth and nail if someone tried to take her away from him.

"Abby?" he called into the lab.

She whirled around, a smile on her face. "Hey Tony."


	11. Jul 11

_A/N: Just a quick note to say that I am back off to the land where I have to fight for the Internet. Updates and review replies may be a little delayed, but I will do my best._

_**July 11**_

**Whatever is interesting to me, is interesting to my friend. – Walter Savage Landor**

Abby screamed along with the crowd. She was completely caught up in the moment.

Gibbs had given her the best birthday present ever – two tickets to a Plastic Death concert. She had been delighted at the thought of seeing her favorite band, especially as she had been unable to get tickets when they had come out.

And then she had struggled to find someone to go with her. She wanted to share the experience with someone. But everyone had been busy already.

Everyone except Gibbs, who she had promptly invited to come with her. To his credit, he hadn't batted an eyelid and agreed at once. Perhaps it had something to do with her test-firing a few bullets as she had invited him…

Nevertheless, she felt they were having a good time together. Gibbs wasn't dancing along to the music – she would fear for his sanity if he did – but he wasn't stuck in a corner muttering to himself either. He seemed to be enjoying the music, in his own way.

She was glad he was with her. There was something about concerts that involved bringing a friend. It didn't feel right when she was on her own.

Maybe tomorrow night, when her ears were sure to be ringing still, they could work on his boat together. For now, she was content to live in the moment.


	12. Jul 12

_**July 12**_

**But friendship, compounded of esteem and love, derives from one its tenderness and its permanence from the other. – Samuel Johnson**

"How depressing," Palmer murmured.

"What was that, my dear boy?" Ducky called from across the lab.

Palmer glanced in the direction of his mentor. He wasn't aware Ducky could hear that well. He would have to be more careful in the future; his comment had been intended for the ears of their new guest only.

He watched as Ducky crossed the room, looking as curious as ever. "Did I miss something?" he asked.

"I was just saying to PFC Stone how depressing this is," Palmer admitted.

"Well," Ducky mused. "I suppose dying can dampen anyone's day."

"It's… He had so much to live for," Palmer continued. "I overheard Abby and Gibbs upstairs – he's got a new baby son. And he had just popped out for a pint of milk when he was hit by the car."

"Accidents happen," Ducky noted. "Someone can leave our side in the blink of an eye."

"And yet we act as though it could never happen to us," Palmer added.

"'We must live for today, for yesterday is gone and tomorrow may never come'," Ducky quoted softly.

Palmer nodded as he recalled the quote. "Thank you, doctor." Somehow he felt better. Ducky knew how to solve everything.


	13. Jul 13

_A/N: Apologies for the horrendously late update. This is likely to continue for a while unfortunately._

_**July 13**_

**A true friend is one with whom you can share quiet moments as comfortably as raucous celebrations.**

The air was still in the lab. The only noise came from the soft hum of machines and computers. Major Mass Spec grumbled as he dealt with a grotty sample. The AC droned somewhere up above.

In the centre of the lab, Abby and McGee sat in silence. They perched on the same chair, each unwilling to leave their job and retrieve another one. And anyway, they had no problem with sharing.

Their eyes were glued to the screen in front of them. The computer was hunting through a database for a fingerprint match and they did not wish to leave it. This was important. If they got a match, the case would be blown right open. They needed the match.

The Goth clutched her stuffed hippo closer as the computer continued to do its job. McGee held his breath as though it would make a difference. Across the room, Major Mass Spec decided he had been ignored for too long and threw a hissy fit in silence. Even he was not brave enough to disturb the partners in crime.

Time ticked slowly by, although neither of them noticed. The fingerprints continued to flash on the screen and they could not tear their eyes away. Any second now… Any second now…

The computer found a match. The lab erupted into whoops of joy.


	14. Jul 14

_**July 14**_

**A true friend knows when you want to talk – and when you don't.**

Jenny stood in the darkness of MTAC. The technicians had finally gone home and she was the only one left inside.

The only other person she could imagine who was insane enough to still be at work at this hour was Jethro. But she had seen him heading home as she had entered MTAC for her conference.

Her day had been hectic and full of chaos. Everything that could go wrong had gone wrong. She had lost two agents in the field on different assignments, and been forced to remain strong while she informed both families when all she wanted to do was cry. Leadership brought some responsibilities that she detested.

While part of her wanted to talk to someone, another part of her wanted to spend some time on her own. She had been with people all day long and a break was needed. She needed to let her defenses down for a short while.

She forced herself to leave the darkness of MTAC and head for another darkness – her office. The catwalk and squad room were thankfully empty; no one would bother her. Cynthia had gone home for the night, as subdued as her boss was.

Jenny froze when she entered her office. Sitting in the middle of her desk was a cup of coffee.

She glanced around the room, not seeing anyone present. Her hand reached out and touched the coffee. It was warm; it had been left recently.

A smile came to her face as she realized who had left it. Jethro. He knew her too well and tonight she would not begrudge that.


	15. Jul 15

_**July 15**_

**A man cannot be said to succeed in this life who does not satisfy one friend. – Henry David Thoreau, **_**Journal: Winter**_

The evidence garage was virtually empty as Palmer crept inside. He wasn't supposed to be in here, but Ducky was under the impression that he had left for home and he wasn't planning to tamper with any evidence. He knew better than that.

He rapidly made his way over to the only other person in the area. Placing the coffee down on the surface in front of them, he nudged one over to his partner in crime.

"Jamaican mocha," he announced. "Heard Gibbs was at that conference in Paris so I stocked up."

"Thanks Palmer," Tony replied.

"Just in case," Palmer added, on the off chance Tony wasn't happy with his idea. When Tony didn't shoot him, he continued. "Talk to me."

"Dead Petty Officer. Looks like a drug deal gone bad."

Palmer wasn't sure what to say so he stayed silent.

"My gut's saying that something's wrong with it all," Tony finished.

"Ducky didn't find anything odd in the autopsy," Palmer recalled. "Have you tried looking at his accounts?"

"McGee's on it," Tony grumbled. "It's always got something to do with money."

"Maybe an ex-girlfriend?" Palmer added.

Tony was definitely thinking now. "I'll get Ziva to look into that."

"Family feud?" he suggested.

Tony nodded his head. "Thanks, Palmer. See you later."

Palmer smiled as he watched Tony walk away. He was glad to help.


	16. Jul 16

_**July 16**_

**Longtime friendship is the rarest of all treasures, spilling over like foam on the surf to flow across all of those who are fortunate enough to be in its path.**

Ducky glanced at his cards and then across at his friend. As usual, Jethro's face was unreadable.

Perhaps it hadn't been the best idea to suggest a game of poker when he knew how closed off his friend could be. The Scotsman might be able to read him better than most people, but Jethro knew how to shut everything down.

At least they were not playing with big money. He was only going to lose his pride, not his house. Although he could always bet Contessa…

He forced himself to pay attention to his cards. A useless hand. Thoroughly useless. He sincerely hoped Jethro had a worse hand, although he doubted it was possible. He was having a run of bad luck tonight.

Nevertheless, it was good to spend some time with his old friend. It was sometimes difficult to find the spare time to relax like this, especially between cases, conferences and court. But they treasured the moments they spent together as friends instead of colleagues.

A log crackled in the fire as he decided to raise. There was no harm in it. He could hardly do nothing, and there was always the possibility that Jethro would let something slip through his mask.

And maybe, just maybe, he could win a round.


	17. Jul 17

_**July 17**_

**A sudden thought strikes me – Let us swear an eternal friendship. – John Hookham Frere**

Ziva smiled as Abby's face lit up with delight.

"That is a brilliant idea!" the Goth squealed.

Ziva continued to smile. They were sitting in Abby's apartment, having watched a horror movie marathon and devoured a pint of ice cream between them. Despite the late hour, they were both wide awake and had been happily discussing anything they could think of.

Until Ziva had had her idea.

She could not believe she had not thought of it earlier. It was so simple, yet ingenious.

"Blood brothers," Abby mused. "Or should it be blood sisters?"

"I do not mind what you call it," Ziva answered. "It is the same thing."

"We should use a needle," Abby decided.

Ziva replied by pulling out the knife which had been previously concealed at her waist.

"A needle will give us enough blood," the Goth continued. "Although I do like the idea of a knife…"

"You are right," Ziva noted. "We have to work tomorrow and it will be slightly more difficult with a deep cut across ours palms."

"I have a needle somewhere." Abby started hunting through her apartment. "I had it when Bert needed emergency surgery…"

The Israeli rolled her eyes. "I have found it," she lied, cutting her palm before Abby could turn around and see what she was doing.

Abby grinned. "Cool. Blood sisters it is."


	18. Jul 18

_**July 18**_

**Laughter is the best gift friends can give each other.**

"We're going to die."

Tony glanced over at McGee. "Stop making such dire predictions," he warned. "We'll be fine. We'll blame it all on Ziva. Or Abby. Or the Director."

"The Director would not superglue Gibbs' coffee to his desk!" McGee pointed out in a raised whisper.

"She would," Tony scoffed. "They were partners back in the day; I'm sure she pulled pranks on him."

"And now she's the Director and she shouldn't be playing with superglue," the nervous Probie countered.

Tony shrugged his shoulders. After a long week, he had decided they needed a break of some sort. He wasn't suicidal enough to do anything to Abby, not after she had lost Bert and spent the last two days sobbing her eyes out over him. Fortunately, Gibbs had found the stuffed hippo in the evidence garage and returned it.

And Ziva had been gathering a small collection of paperclips and growling at anyone who disturbed her. Tony felt she was overreacting – he couldn't be held accountable when her computer kept failing.

Which left Gibbs. And his coffee.

Two pairs of eyes watched as Gibbs left the elevator and made his way towards his desk. The same two pairs watched carefully as he reached for the coffee cup only to spill it everywhere.

And they both laughed at the expression on his face.


	19. Jul 19

_**July 19**_

**Leave it to your best friend to think your worst fault is being too hard on yourself.**

Gibbs stood in the doorway to Jenny's study, watching her work in the darkness.

He knew she wasn't aware of his presence; she would have offered him bourbon and a seat otherwise. And he was content to hide in the shadows and watch her work. It was rare for him to see her with her guard down.

She wore her Director mask too often at the moment. He knew she had a job to do, but it was consuming her. She never switched off from her role anymore; he struggled to make her smile.

He missed the old Jenny. The one who would tease him, steal his coffee and make him laugh. The one who would join forces with him to get Tony back for his latest bet. The one who would interfere with his investigation and remind him of when they had been partners.

A curse brought his attention back to the present. She had glanced up and seen him in the darkness. Luckily for him, she had recognized who it was or he had no doubt there would be a bullet in his brain right now.

"How long have you been there?" she demanded, placing a file to one side and opening another, all without taking her eyes off him.

He chose not to answer that. "Working late," he noted.

"Lots of paperwork," she countered.

"Deadline?" he checked.

He hid a smirk when she remained silent.

"There a reason you're working your way into an early grave when you don't have a deadline?" he asked.

"I want to get it out of the way," she told him.

He nodded. "You're too hard on yourself," he informed her. "Take tomorrow off. I'll deal with anything that pops up."

She stared at him for a moment. "You? Acting Director for a day? You'll be calling me by lunch, begging me to deal with the FBI."

"You're on," he promised her, helping himself to her bourbon. Maybe he could get Cynthia to help him…


	20. Jul 20

_**July 20**_

**Ah! Being blest, for Heaven shall lend  
To share thy simple joys a friend! – Samuel Taylor Coleridge, "Happiness"**

"McGee!" she squealed the moment she laid eyes on him. Abby continued to grin as he faltered in the doorway, seemingly surprised by her enthusiastic greeting.

"What do you want?" he asked suspiciously just before she crashed into him and gave him the biggest hug of his life. "Can't breathe," he warned.

She released him with another grin. "Can't I simply be happy to see you?" she inquired, looking as innocent as she could.

He chuckled. "You're happier than normal," he pointed out.

"I'm always like this," she countered.

"It's not your birthday, you haven't had that many Caf-Pows this morning and we haven't given you any evidence," he continued. "Something's up."

"Okay," she caved. "I've had an idea."

"Does this idea involve Tony and Ziva again?" he warned. "Because the last time we trapped them in the elevator together –"

She shook her head firmly. Why didn't Timmy understand? It was a pity Ziva had come out of the elevator and threatened to kill McGee with a staple gun, but she couldn't be held responsible for that.

"You need to get out more," she announced.

He stared at her for a few moments. "I have a deadline coming up," he reminded her.

"Sister Rosita sprained her ankle again – don't ask me how because I can't understand what a nun could be doing that would result in frequent injuries to her ankle – and we need someone else on our team tonight," she explained.

"I'm sure Tony will go with you," he began.

"But the nuns want to meet you. It'll be fun! It might give you some ideas to write about," she begged.

McGee nodded slowly. "Okay."

She smiled and hugged him again. "Now, about your outfit…"


	21. Jul 21

_**July 21**_

**Be good and friendly still, and oft return. – John Milton, **_**Paradise Lost**_

The hot sun beat down on his back as he waited for his friend at the airport. The cool beer in his hand wasn't doing the job any more. And what was the world coming to when you couldn't smoke inside the terminal?

Mike Franks scowled as he took another drag of his cigarette, before staring up at the sky. Yet another airplane was coming in to land. Was that Probie's plane? He attempted in vain to recall the exact time it was supposed to land. All he could remember was Tuesday afternoon and him offering to give a lift.

He was never drinking that much beer again. He wasn't cut out to be a cab driver for his Probie. If he had made his own way to the beach before, he could do it again. And if he brought a box of beer with him, that would be the icing on the cake.

He stared up at the sky again, wondering whether he should abandon his cigarettes and head inside the terminal. At least the air conditioning would cool him down.

"Hey Mike."

He resisted the urge to spin around, not willing to let Probie know that he'd managed to sneak up on him.

"What took you so long?" he berated. "My truck's over there. Don't think you're getting a lift next time."

He didn't have to look at Probie to know he was smiling. And Franks was smiling too, inwardly. It was good to see Gibbs again.

"How's life in _El Norte_?" Franks asked. "And how's that redhead of yours?"


	22. Jul 22

_A/N: And I'm back. Updates should be more regular now._

_**July 22**_

**A real friend will help you forget the things you don't want to remember.**

"Why are we here?" Tim found himself yelling over the music.

"Why not?" Tony shouted back, clearly eyeing up a young woman on the other side of the bar.

Tim shook his head. After a horrific case, Tony had all but dragged him out of the Navy Yard. Ziva had left long before they had managed to finish their paperwork; Tim suspected she was finding her own way to relax. He sincerely hoped it didn't involve torture, death or paperclips.

And Gibbs? He could take care of himself with bourbon and his boat. The ex-marine had seen worse cases before and always found a way to get the images out of his mind. There was no need to worry about Gibbs.

Tim's original idea had been to spend the night worrying about his new book. He couldn't quite get chapter three to work. But he had soon realized that he would never be able to focus on his plotline with the images in his head.

And his indecision about what to do had caught Tony's attention. Hence he had been dragged into a club.

The music was too loud, the place was too small and the drinks were overpriced. Tim could not see how this was supposed to loosen him up at all. On the other hand, it looked like a place where Tony would thrive.

But he could see why he had been brought here. The loud beat of the music meant that he couldn't focus on anything running around in his head. It made him relax in a way. And although the company wasn't what he was used to, he thought it better to have company at this moment than none at all.

He smiled softly to himself. Perhaps Tony knew what he was doing after all.


	23. Jul 23

_**July 23**_

**No matter how much you whine, complain, or vent, a girlfriend always call the next day.**

Ziva tapped her foot as she stood in the elevator. She was not in a patient mood and if this metal box did not hurry up and get her to where she desired to be…

Just as she was about to sabotage the elevator, it stopped and the doors opened. She took several calming breaths as she walked off it and into the lab.

As usual, Abby had her music up loud. The lights were dimmed and the Goth was staring into a microscope. Ziva walked over silently, wondering if it was possible for Abby's skirt to get any shorter. The familiar pigtails were swinging as the Goth rocked to the music.

If it could be called music.

"Abby," she called, over the blare of the CD player.

The Goth spun around. "Ziva," she squealed, launching herself at the Israeli. "I haven't seen you in _ages_."

"You came into the squad room an hour ago," Ziva recalled, confused. "To give Gibbs your report. You saw me then."

"That was an hour ago," Abby proclaimed solemnly, letting her friend go. "Anything new?"

Ziva sighed. "Tony almost destroyed my computer. He tipped his coffee over it just as I had finished a case report."

Abby winced. "He accidently shredded the report I left on Gibbs' desk last week," she admitted. "Did McGee manage to save your report?"

"Just about," Ziva noted. "I was not happy with Tony."

"He can be an idiot," Abby decided. "But he's our idiot."

Ziva nodded. As much as she might despise Tony at times, she could not imagine him not being there.


	24. Jul 24

_**July 24**_

**A friend whom you have been gaining during your whole life, you ought not to be displeased with in a moment. A stone is many years becoming a ruby; take care that you do not destroy it in an instant against another stone. – Saadi**

Ducky smiled at his latest guest. "Where were we, Corporal Smith?"

It took him a few moments to locate his scalpel, having placed it on his desk a short time before. It had always bemused him that he could lose things so easily.

"Friendship," he recalled, performing the Y incision with ease. He could do this in his sleep. "And how friendship changes over time. The little things that friends do."

His mind reached back to a few minutes before when Jethro had been with him. His friend had been most displeased at his lack of answers, but this was a complicated case and he needed time. It had clearly been difficult for Jethro to accept this and he had departed in a foul mood.

"People strive for perfection in many walks of life," Ducky continued, glancing around Autopsy for his shears. He had them when he was performing the autopsy on PFC Rudd this morning… "And some people assume that friendship has to be perfect as well."

Ah, the shears! On the wrong side of the room, naturally. He was going to have to remind Mr. Palmer that he couldn't leave Autopsy in such disarray, even if he had a dental appointment.

"Friendship takes time to cultivate, and it can never be perfect," Ducky informed his latest guest. "It's about living with the ups and downs of such a relationship, accepting that there will be times when it all goes a little pear-shaped."

He lifted his gaze to the phone on his desk. "It's about knowing not to take something personally when your friend is upset about something else. I'm sure Jethro will calm down."

And he knew his friend would have calmed down by the time he found something.


	25. Jul 25

_**July 25**_

**Have friends, not for the sake of receiving, but of giving. – Joseph Roux**

The squad room was fairly empty when Tim walked in. He wasn't entirely sure how he had ended up running so early for once.

Not that it mattered. He would rather be early than late, especially given Gibbs' mood for the past week. Their team leader had been like a bear with a sore head, mainly because of the sheer amount of paperwork they were struggling with and the complete lack of cases.

Tim knew the feeling; sometimes he would rather be in the middle of a complicated case, short on sleep and with adrenalin running through his veins than sitting behind his desk. It was why he had become a field agent after all.

Everyone was taking the lack of activity badly. Tony was harassing him more than usual – there had been a rubber band war, a paper airplane war and a paperclip war. The last one had only ended when Ziva had threatened to kill the pair of them with a single paperclip.

The present in his hands was to thank Ziva for putting up with them. The Mossad officer had been attacking her computer more often recently as well as showing off her knowledge of swear words. At least Tim assumed they were swear words; he didn't understand all the languages Ziva knew.

He placed the stress ball carefully in the middle of her desk before hurrying over to his own. He might be early, but Ziva was due any minute. He could only hope she would see the lighthearted side of his gift…


	26. Jul 26

_A/N: I've had a few messages recently about the lack of these with Gibbs and another team member. I have done a few of them, but my general view is that Gibbs doesn't want to be friends in the usual term with his team. He wants to be their leader first - to teach them and guide them. As such, I find it difficult to write such a pairing. He does have more of a friendship with Abby, Ducky and Jenny - hence why I tend to stick him with them. But at the end of it all, I try to pick the characters who fit the quote I have for each day. Sometimes these leap out at me and sometimes they take longer to figure out._

_**July 26**_

**Your silent companionship is often more healing than words of advice.**

Abby whirled around as she heard the elevator arrive. "Gibbs!" she squealed. "I need your help."

She barely waited for him to enter her lab, omnipresent coffee cup attached to one hand and a Caf-Pow in the other, before she started her rant.

"Do you know how many fiber analyses I've had to run today? Twenty. _Twenty_, Gibbs. Do you know how long they take or how fiddly they are?"

She didn't wait for him to say anything before continuing.

"They are the most evil thing ever invented. If I find out who came up with the idea, I will kill them and leave no forensic evidence!"

She huffed.

"First my sandbath decided it wasn't going to work, then the solvent wouldn't come out of the tubes and the other solvent decided to take forever to work."

She sipped gratefully from her Caf-Pow.

"And that wasn't the end of it! The Major decided to have a fit and it took me an hour to make him happy. My computer thought it would be amusing to attempt to wipe half my files."

She stared at Gibbs, who was waiting for her to continue.

"Did you notice that power cut?" she checked. "Because you barely use anything electronic so I didn't know if you knew about it."

The look on his face indicated that he knew what she was talking about.

"Well, I had to reboot all of my babies and comfort them. Poor things…"

She looked at him again before drawing him into a hug. "Aw, Gibbs. You always know just what to say."


	27. Jul 27

_**July 27**_

**We know each other now; and when I find a friend, I never let him go. – Louisa May Alcott**

"This is your fault, McIdiot!" Tony protested, trying to pull away.

"How is this my fault?" McGee answered, pulling in the opposite direction. "Ow!"

"You told Abby that were we arguing," Tony countered. "You put the idea in her head."

"Stop pulling," McGee ordered. "How am I responsible for Abby's ideas?"

Tony rolled his eyes in response. Of course it was the Probie's fault; he should have stopped the Goth from acting on her plan, or at the very least should have forced her to hand over the keys. Abby was easily swayed by the young Probie when he smiled sweetly.

How had she got it into her head to handcuff them together?! Admittedly they had been arguing a lot recently, but that was normal behavior when the Probie decided he was superior to the Senior Field Agent. McLoser should never have been encouraged after finding a suspect with his computer know-how.

He tugged his hand away from McGee, attempting again to get free. The weakling Probie yelped as the cuffs dug into his skin. This was getting them nowhere. What was Gibbs going to do when he saw them?

"We could ask Ziva to pick the lock," McGee suggested.

Tony snorted. "We can get out of these without the help of a crazy ninja Mossad chick," he retorted.

It was McGee's turn to roll his eyes. "I'd rather not be attached to you for the rest of my life," he pointed out.

Tony started to grin.

"I don't like that look," McGee groaned.

"We're going to hold Bert to ransom for the handcuff key," Tony decided. "What could possibly go wrong?"


	28. Jul 28

_**July 28**_

**A girlfriend is to life what a compass is to a hiker. You can make your journey without one, but it's wonderful to have one when you've lost your way.**

"We are not lost!" Jenny insisted.

Beside her, Abby and Ziva giggled. "It helps if you hold the map up the right way," the Israeli pointed out.

Jenny sighed as she handed the map over. Abby had decided that it would be fun to go on a hike together, picking a nice wood as their location. Ziva had decided to make it more challenging and to stay off the trail. And now they had no idea where they were.

Although she would not admit it aloud, Jenny was worried. Their cell phones were out of range and they were not expected back at NCIS for a few days because they had chosen to hike on a Saturday. Gibbs would probably not notice them missing before midday on Monday. Or, more likely, he would not notice their absence until he needed them.

At least Ziva was present. While Jenny struggled to navigate her way around DC, Ziva was experienced in just about everything. She could probably find her way out of here in her sleep.

And Abby seemed to be finding everything fun. She was bouncing up and down, completely unconcerned that they were lost. The Goth's infectious enthusiasm was lifting Jenny's spirits.

"North is that way," Ziva announced. "So we should go –"

"South," Abby decided.

"The trail is east," Jenny reminded them.

"But we do not want the trail," Ziva countered. "I think west would be a good direction."

"Isn't the lake supposed to be to the south?" Abby recalled.

Jenny grinned as her friends continued to argue about where they would go. Perhaps she would tell them about the compass in her pocket later…


	29. Jul 29

_**July 29 **_

**But let not therefore my good friends be grieved. – William Shakespeare, **_**Julius Caesar**_

Gibbs switched off the car engine before looking across at his passenger.

The drive had been silent, even the radio off. He knew the route to the cemetery and there had been little else to discuss. He had focused on the road and she had focused on holding back her tears.

He wanted nothing more than to wrap her in his arms and hold her tight, but he was aware she would probably try to shy away from him. He knew he wouldn't be able to handle it.

One of Jenny's few female friends in DC from outside the Navy Yard had died the week prior in a car accident. To make matters worse, Jenny had been at a conference in Europe and had not been able to leave. Instead, she had been forced to deal with her grief across an ocean with no one to lean on, even missing the funeral.

On her return, it had been abundantly clear to him that she was broken inside. He had decided to give her some space, knowing she would lash out at him otherwise. But he had finally snapped, swallowed his pride and decided to help her.

The sun was beating down on them as they left his car. He placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her through the rows of headstones. Thinking ahead, he had called the caretaker of this place and found the location of the relevant grave. He had figured that she would not want to spend time searching for the right headstone.

He stood back slightly as she said her goodbyes, giving her some privacy. Regardless, he still heard when her voice cracked and knew when she started crying. His heart broke but he kept his feet rooted to the floor.

After a while, she placed a single rose on the grave and stepped back. He rested his hand on her shoulder, before finally giving in and pulling her into a hug. She didn't resist and began to sob into his shirt. He allowed her to vent her grief.

When she calmed down, he walked her back to his car. She was in a state; he planned to take her back to her own house and stay with her. And he knew he would make sure she took tomorrow off. She needed it.


	30. Jul 30

_**July 30**_

**A good thing that's even better done with a friend: watching a ten-hankie movie.**

Tony couldn't take his eyes off the screen. A tear fell from his eye and he reached for the box of tissues, unsurprised when his hand brushed against Ziva's.

This had all been her idea. She had approached him at the end of a long day to ask if he wanted to watch a movie with her. It hadn't taken him long to discover what she had in mind – _Titanic_ at her place.

He couldn't refuse her. Not only would it be an opportunity to see the great ninja Mossad chick cry, but she had offered him pizza as well. He wasn't stupid enough to turn down food.

He could still remember the first time he had seen this movie. He hadn't realized just how many tears were inside him. Thankfully he had decided to view it on his own, which had saved him the embarrassment of being seen to cry.

Even now, he wasn't prepared to admit that he owned a copy and seemed to watch it at least once a month. And every time he watched it, he couldn't hold back the tears. It was a strangely addictive movie – he wanted to throw the DVD away and never set eyes on it again, yet he loved watching it.

Sitting on the couch next to him, he realized that Ziva was crying silently. He wasn't mad enough to tease her over it; she could kill him without taking her eyes off the screen. And anyway, he was also crying. She could blackmail him with his own tears.

Instead, he grabbed a few more tissues and pushed them in her direction. He knew the movie would end soon and he wasn't sure whether he would be relieved or upset.

Without taking his eyes away from the TV, he slipped an arm around her shoulders. She leant towards him and he smiled softly.


	31. Jul 31

_**July 31**_

**A transgression your best friend can be forgiven for: telling your teacher that you have a crush on her.**

Tim practically dragged Tony outside the building. "What were you thinking?!" he hissed, furious at his partner in crime.

Tony merely grinned back at him. "What's the problem, McLoverboy?"

Tim could hardly believe it, although in retrospect he should have guessed this was going to happen. It certainly wasn't his fault.

They had decided to try an art class together. Privately, Tim had felt that Tony would not return after the first class, but the sheer number of young women attending had put paid to that. They had enjoyed their evenings together, laughing at each other's attempts while improving over time.

And it helped that their teacher was very beautiful. Not in Tony's sense of the word, but there was something about her that intrigued Tim. Over a few beers one night, Tim had owned up about his crush.

Only for Tony to tell her that he was madly in love with her and wanted her to have his children.

Tim had not been as furious in a long time, not since Tony's last stupid prank. Tony never learned from his actions. He was sorely tempted to set Ziva loose on him. She would get revenge.

"Why did you tell her that?" he demanded. "How could you do that?"

"Relax, McIdiot," Tony replied. "Like you were ever going to tell her. I was only doing you a favor."

"I didn't ask you to do that," Tim snapped. "Keep your nose out of my business."

Tony rolled his eyes, leading Tim to walk away. It was clear that Tony didn't get it, and Tim was worried about what he might do in his anger.

As he headed towards his car, he saw the art teacher across the street. He opened his mouth to apologize, but she smiled shyly at him instead. Maybe he could forgive Tony after all…


End file.
